10 Things I Hate About You
by FallingforWerewolves
Summary: "Hermione Granger was dead.  That's all there was to it." After Hermione was killed by a rogue Death Eater, all of Hogwarts goes into mourning. But curiosity is sparked when Draco starts carryong a piece of parchment with him everywhere.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or 10 Things I Hate about you.**

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><p>Hermione Granger was dead. That's all there was to it.<p>

No, there was much more to it. There was the emotional devestation; the physical pain; the mind numbing sadness that the death left behind. There were the shattered lives that would never be the same again.

Gloomy was the only way to describe the weather that had descended upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dark clouds and sometimes never ceasing downpours were all that could be seen.

The residents of Hogwarts were in a state of distress. Even those who had never been close to her shed tears. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasey took it the hardest of all. Or at least, as far as anyone could see.

No one would speak to Draco Malfoy. He hadn't been responsible for her death in any way, but they wanted, maybe needed, to blame someone. Draco had never hated his past more than he did now. Damn those rogue Death Eaters; damn them all to Hell! Draco waked into the Heads' common room, barely looking at anything. He never spoke these days; just kept to himself. He didn't have any friends anymore.

Draco passed Hermione's dorm room door. No one had gone in there and now Draco felt the odd desire to. So, possibly against his better judgement, he did.

The room possitively reeked of Gryffindor, but for once Draco didn't mind. It had been Hermione's bedroom, and therefore should look as if it was. He saw all of her school robes hung neatly and precisely in her closet, never to be worn again. He tore his gaze away and said gaze, perhaps by chance, landed on her desk. He walked over and swept his eyes over them. It was all homework, until another piece of paper caught his attention.

Written on it was _To Draco Malfoy_.

Curiosity sparked, that could in no way be contained, Draco picked up the slip of paper and reassured himself that since it was supposed to be for him anyway that it was okay to read it.

And in Hermione's perfectly tidy handwriting it said:

_Ten Things I Hate About You_

_I hate the way you talk to me_

_And the way you cut your hair_

_I hate the way you ride your broom_

_I hate it when you stare_

_I hate your big dumb combat boots_

_And the way you read my mind_

_I hate you so much it makes me sick_

_It even makes me rhyme_

_I hate the way you're always right_

_I hate it when you lie_

_I hate it when you make me laugh_

_Even worse when you make me cry_

_I hate it when you're not around_

_And the fact that you didn't call_

_But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you_

_Not even close_

_Not even a little bit_

_Not even at all_

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><p>"Mr. Malfoy, unless that parchment has anything to do with the lesson, please put it away."<p>

No one knew what was writen on the parchment Draco now took everywhere with him. Many were curious, including the professors, as to what could be of that much importance to him. But raked by the grief of Hermione's death, they could never find the strength to ask. Not that Draco minded. He would never share what was on the parchment with anyone.

The first time he had read it, he had cried like small child would if they had broken a bone or something else of value to them that cut to the core. Malfoy beliefs stated that tears were signs of weakness; but at that point in life he was thinking, _Screw Malfoy beliefs_, and let the tears flow. He hadn't wept like that since, but still shed a tear every now and then.

"Sorry, Professor," Draco replied, but made no move to put the parchment away.

Professor McGonagall just sighed. She wasn't sure why she bothered anymore. It was the same thing every day: Draco would be looking at the mystery paper during class. She would ask him to put it away. He never did. In all honesty, she was one of the most curious as to what could hold his attention for so long.

Obviously, she wasn't the only one.

"What is even on that parchment, Malfoy?" Ron snapped testily. While Harry was trudging in depression, Ron had taken the path of anger and annoyance.

Draco looked up and scowled. "None of your business."

"Oh really?"

"Yes! Really, Weasley! The whole world doesn't revolve around you! You and Potter are acting you're the only ones affected by this! Well, guess what? Other people are upset too! And some of those people deal with their mourning in different ways than you do!" And with that, Draco stormed out of the room.

Accidentally leaving the parchment behind.

There were a few seconds of silence before everyone rushed over to the paper. Even McGonagall rose quickly and made her way towards the now crowded desk.

Within a minute, everyone in the class, including the Professor, had read it.

After said minute the door burst open.

Draco strode in and his classmates parted before him. He snatched the parchment up and then, if they all didn't know better, he seemed to stumble to the door, which he slammed behind him.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. McGonagall, recognizing the look which she had seen quite a few times before, nodded, giving them silent permission.

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><p>Draco wasn't sure where he was. And he was quite happy about that. Or as happy as he could get, anyway.<p>

He wanted to be lost. Really, he just wanted to lie down wherever he was and die. But that, unfortunately, wasn't an option. So he did what any other person would likely do in his situation: he plopped down on the ground, drew his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, rested his head on his knees and began to cry.

Harry had seen Draco crying once and, truthfully, he had never wanted to see it happen again. It unnevered him because a vulnerable Draco was harder to deal with than a vicious Draco running at you sreaming bloody murder. It was Ron's first time to see the unthinkable and agreed with what Harry thought full heartedly. Ron had no bloody clue how to deal with a crying Draco.

Both Gryffindor boys made their way over to the weeping blond Slytherin. They sat down on either side of him, still unsure as to what they should do. By silent agreement, they decided not to say anything until Draco communicated with them.

"What do you two want?" Draco snapped not even looking up to see who was there. His voice was gravelly and wet at the same time, which was slightly frightening for the other two boys to hear. Throughout their lives they had only heard a snappy cold voice from the boy blubbering beside them.

Harry took a deep breath to get just enough courage to ask "Who wrote it?"

Draco's head snapped up; and if Harry had thought that he would be ready to see the face before him, he was wrong. The last time he had seen Draco crying had been only after a few seconds. Draco had looked pretty much the same after albeit a bit disheveled. But this time his eyes were bloodshot and his face even more pale if such a thing were possible.

"Even after years of pretty much copying every scrap of homework off of her, you don't recognize her handwriting?" Draco asked, surprisingly making no move to cover his face. "You two are bigger idiots than I thought!" He then rested his head on his knees again and took slow shaky breaths in attempt to calm down. It wasn't working.

Ron sat there in a state of shock for two reasons. One, who wouldn't be surprised after seeing Draco Malfoy like that? And two, because the realization of who wrote it. Ron had been too curious about what was on the paper to even notice the style of handwriting. For once, perhaps the only time in his life, he agreed with Draco. He and Harry were idiots.

"How could I not have seen it?" Ron asked himself more than anyone, but that didn't keep Draco from replying.

"Very easily, obviously. Now, even if you do mind, I'm leaving."

And he did. He stood up, rather clumsily, and made his way back to the castle, leaving the other two boys there to ponder on current events.

"He was right, you know," Harry announced after a long pause.

"About what?" Ron asked.

"That we're acting like the only ones this has happened to. We aren't the only ones that... Hermione's death has had a toll on. Like how Fred's death didn't only hurt you and your family."

This conversation was extremely depressing, but also necessary for the two to have. Once again they came to a silent agreement and began to make their way towards the castle.

"You remember the password, right?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "She told me the day before she..."

Ron nodded in full undersatnding. "Let's hope Malfoy didn't change the password."

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><p>Finally reaching the portrait of the Heads' dorms, Harry muttered the password (Chocolate Strawberries) and they entered the common room. Moving onto the dorms, the saw one door with <em>HG<em> incraved in gold and _DM _incraved in silver on the one opposite.

Ron opened the door with _DM_ on it and found that Draco wasn't in there. Then both he and Harry turned to Hermione's door and opened it slowly. Harry looked in first and then slowly shook his head.

"He's not in there either?" Ron asked, slightly disappointed that they had come all this way to find that he wasn't there.

"Oh, he's in there," Harry replied before opening the door wider so that Ron could look in.

And there he was. Lying on top of Hermione's bed was Draco Malfoy, totally asleep. He was clutching something, but it wasn't the parchment. Unless he had managed to put it in a picture frame, which they wouldn't put past him to do, considering how much he chersihed it.

Harry and Ron both took cautious steps into the room and began to look around. They saw exactly what Draco had seen the first time he had come in, except for one thing.

Ron noticed it first, and the proceeded to point it out to Harry. It was a bulletin board (something Hermione and Harry had to explain to Ron for it was something Muggle) that had pictures tacked to it. They tiptoed over, still trying to avoid waking the slumbering dragon, and looked at it.

There were pictures of the Golden Trio throughout the years. There were some with just Harry, and some with just Ron. There were pictures of her parents, the only ones that didn't move. But what puzzeled them were the small collection of pictures at the bottom of the board.

There was one of Draco fiddeling with her iPod, obviously having no clue how to use or what to do with it. There was one of Draco reading what looked like a Muggle book, which they guessed Hermione had forced him to read, called _Pride and Prejudice_. But the most puzzeling of all was the picture of Draco in which he was smiling. Actually smiling. No smirk, no I'm-up-to-something-evil grin. An actual smile.

Harry and Ron turned when they heard movement coming from the bed, but it was only Draco rolling over in his sleep. By doing so, he had let go of the frame he had been holding. Harry moved slowly towards the bed and snatched the frame and went back over to Ron before looking at it.

It wasn't a moving picture, so Hermione must have taken it with her Muggle camera. But that wasn't what surprised them. The picture had been taken from above, so she had obviousl held her arm over her head to take it. Ron and Harry had no idea where it had been taken, but that didn't really matter. What did matter was the Draco was in it too. He had his arms wrapped around Hermione's waist from behind and was smiling up at the camera with her.

Before either of the boys could say anything, they heard a whimpering from behind them. They turned to see Draco was now crying again, but this time in his sleep. It was one of the most pitiful things either of them had seen.

"I can't find it in my heart to hate him anymore," Ron announced.

"You know what, Ron? Neither can I."

And with that the two boys left the room; leaving Draco to cry in peace.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, that turned out more depressing than I originally thought it would be. It also turned out longer than I thought it would be, but the words kept flowing. For those who didn't understand, Hermione was killed by a rogue death eater. As you can probably tell, I changed the poem a teeny bit to fit the story. Draco probably doesn't even know what a car is anyway. So, yeah. I came up with this at about 2 am. I get the weirdest ideas when I'm sleep deprived.**

**Loves y'all!**


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